


Shine

by maggs689



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Recovery, this shit is sad y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 02:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20167027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggs689/pseuds/maggs689
Summary: Everything about Taylor was shiny.





	Shine

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: This whole thing is about alcohol abuse, drug abuse, and recovery. Please avoid if any of these topics are triggering or uncomfortable for you. 
> 
> This is maudlin and I needed to get it out.

Everything about Taylor was shiny - the gleaming surfaces of his ultramodern apartment in Hoboken, his Hart Trophy, his big white smile when he looked at Nico.

It was shiny at the end too - the sweat shining on Taylor’s forehead when he threw up last night’s whiskey, the silver key Nico put on the counter, the tears shining in Taylor’s eyes when Nico told him that he was leaving and wouldn’t be back. The bad kind of shiny.

1.

After the draft, after Nico flew to New Jersey with his family for his welcome to Newark, after the media went away and his family flew back home, there was Taylor. 

Taylor picked him up in a limo, doing the full Pretty Woman out the top of it and shouting to Nico, who watched him from the balcony of his hotel room in Hoboken. Taylor was holding a champagne flute and waving hello excitedly, and Nico could only laugh at how bright and shiny his new life was. 

They rolled down the windows as the limo crossed the bridge, Nico marveling at the lights of New York City just coming up at dusk and the setting sun glinting off the river. They killed the bottle of champagne by the time they pulled up to the steakhouse for dinner, but Taylor kept it flowing, motioning to the waiter hovering attentively nearby any time Nico’s glass was empty. 

By the time they arrived at the club, the champagne had gone to Nico’s head and he was grateful that Taylor had his arm slung tight around his shoulders. Everyone in the VIP section seemed to know Taylor - seemed to know Nico too - and there was more champagne. Nico danced with Taylor, letting Taylor pull him tight to him and move their hips together. He looked up at the lights overhead, flashing bright colors and lighting up Taylor’s face, and he laughed.

2.

In December, Taylor poured beer over Nico’s head in the locker room to celebrate a win and Nico’s overtime game-winning goal. The party continued in the car home when Taylor cracked open a beer from the cases they picked up to bring back to his apartment. Nico drove and watched Taylor drink the beer down and then hang the upper part of his body out the window to shout into the New Jersey night.

Nico watched Taylor that night, the way he charmed the whole team and anyone else who came through the door, the way his laughter got louder the later it got. Nico couldn’t keep his eyes off of Taylor. He felt himself drawn to Taylor’s side and, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, hoped for a little of his attention. Taylor was so bright and it was so warm in his light, even if it was only his reflection.

Toward the end of the party, when most of the team had drifted away, Nico stayed and had one last beer with Taylor. That turned into another and another on the balcony watching the sun come up, and then on the couch kissing lazily, like neither of them had any place to be. Nico would be hung over for practice that afternoon but Taylor would be just fine.

3.

By the time the All Star Break rolled around, Taylor was injured so he and Nico went to Mexico on vacation. Nico watched Taylor sleep on the plane, his face pale and exhausted from surgery and physical therapy, and he watched Taylor take the pain meds the medical staff had given him. 

They lounged by the private pool outside their suite at the resort, enjoying the margaritas delivered by the bar and eating the meal plan-approved dinners made by the private chef Taylor had hired. Taylor stayed up most nights, sitting outside with a bottle of tequila, the pain pills crushed to a powder on the table next to his lounger, and only crawling into bed with Nico around dawn. 

Nico liked Taylor in the mornings when he was soft and relaxed, drunk enough not to worry about the season and just enjoy Nico’s touch. By the afternoons, Taylor was sober enough to work out with Nico, his face set into a grim line when he tried to rehab his knee, his shoulders tight with tension and worry. He’d rage until sundown, until the painkillers kicked in, and then he’d melt himself away until dawn. Nico focused on the mornings, when Taylor would be relaxed again, waiting for those moments when the Taylor he loved was back, smiling easy in the morning light.

4.

Taylor came off injured reserve after the All Star break, but everyone knew he wasn’t right. He was taking so many pain pills that Nico didn’t let him drive to the rink for practice. Before bed, Nico would hide Taylor's flask from him, worried that he’d drink too much whiskey and pass out, choke in his sleep or decide to do something dangerous in the night. 

There were good nights, like when Taylor cooked Nico dinner for his birthday, nights when Taylor was sharp and sparkling again and Nico thought he’d love him forever. There were nights when Taylor scored two, three goals, turning the tide of the game all by himself. He was still beautiful, skin scrubbed fresh out of the shower after practice, he was still Nico’s, like Nico remembered.

But then there were nights when Taylor was sluggish on the ice, throwing up between periods and worthless most of the next day with his hangover. There were days when Taylor’s mood was so low that Nico wouldn’t go home, even though he knew Taylor would dig out all of his secret whiskey bottles and drink from them all day until he called Nico and cried for him to come back.

It wasn’t a secret, but it was Nico’s burden. The team cared but they weren’t going to do anything until it got so bad that someone got killed. No one was going to help Nico when he found the bag of white powder taped to the underside of the sink, when Taylor snorted fat lines of it off of the coffee table the morning of a playoff game. No one was going to help Nico when they got eliminated and Taylor disappeared for three days, only to return in the back of a cop car. Nico was on his own.

5.

Nico knew he shouldn’t let Taylor fuck him like this, that Taylor was still soaked with vodka and unable to gauge his strength. But things had been bad and he wanted one last time, whatever Taylor could give him. Nico would be leaving for Switzerland soon and he didn’t know if Taylor would be there when he got back. Taylor was circling the drain and Nico was just about ready to give up on him, but not until they had one more night together. 

It was dark in Taylor’s apartment, the clean surfaces cluttered with the evidence of Taylor’s most recent bender, the shades drawn tight against the bright June sun. Nico drew a bath for them and coaxed Taylor into it with him, scrubbing his back with a loofah and kissing Taylor’s shoulders softly. He let Taylor slump against him and talk, get out everything he had been pushing down since the trade, the pressure and the failures, his hopes and his disappointments.

In bed later, Taylor fucked Nico slowly, his hold on Nico so tight it was almost painful. Taylor’s breath was ragged in Nico’s ear as they came together, Taylor sobbing that he was sorry for everything, so sorry. Nico held him, shh-ing him and telling him that everything would be okay, even though he knew in his heart of hearts that this was the end of the line for Taylor.

The next morning, Nico watched Taylor slosh vodka into a coffee cup in the kitchen. Nico went into the bedroom to get his duffel bag and then returned to the kitchen to put his key on the counter. Taylor just stared at him with dull eyes and nodded, eyes wet, when Nico said goodbye.

0.

A few months later, at the start of training camp, Nico sat at the far end of the table during the first team dinner of the season. He looked down at his plate and moved his food around with his fork, letting the chitchat of his teammates wash over him. He looked up and saw Taylor staring at him from the other end of the table. Taylor looked leaner, the bloat from the previous year gone and some of the color back in his cheeks. His eyes still looked sad as he sipped his club soda.

Nico had heard about rehab and he hoped that Taylor was being honest. Taylor wasn't Nico's to take care of anymore, so Nico watched Taylor leave the restaurant, let him drive away with Palms into the night. He watched him during practice and in the dressing room before games, Taylor’s hands steady while he taped his stick. He watched Taylor head back to his hotel room on the road so he could go to bed early. 

And in April, almost a year after he left Taylor’s apartment for the last time, Nico watched as Taylor stepped over the threshold into Nico’s new apartment for the first time, his heart full of hope for starting over. Taylor put his 9-month chip into Nico’s hand, a promise for the future if only Nico could believe in him. Nico believed.


End file.
